Monday, May 10, 2010
I love books. They represent people. Sometimes I imagine who wrote them. Some old man who exudes pipe tobacco or some very introverted scholar who spent a good deal of life on that book. Books are like old friends that wait with quiet wisdom for you to approach them. Sometimes, like old friends, they collect a bit of dust. Maybe their pages start to yellow or fade. The binding weakens a bit. The smell of dust seeps so far into the pages that it never leaves and the covers get grayer. And like old friends, it's hard when you lose one. I like libraries. I love used book stores (especially English ones where the books are just a little older). I love walking in and having the comforting security of seeing the same books hugging you from all around like a knitted sweater. I have three bookshelves in my room, all filled with books my 24 years have collected. I have always lived in houses with lots and lots of books. Books in the bedroom, books in the kitchen, books in the living room, books upstairs (we do actually have a library in our house), books in the guestroom. My parents, like myself, also like books. They like reading them. They like curling up with them. They like being changed by them. So do I. The CIU family lost many old friends this weekend. It hurt a little to watch them shoveled into smoldering piles on the ground. So sad. I will miss my cozy corner in the library. I will miss seeing the Bible translations as I walk in. Goodbye friends. Goodbye books.